


Markarth

by Potato_Being



Series: Silence [5]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Attempt at Romance, F/F, the dragonborn is trying not to be a creep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-29
Updated: 2015-01-29
Packaged: 2018-03-09 14:54:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3253865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Potato_Being/pseuds/Potato_Being
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laria scares her new housecarl, and meets with Muiri once again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Markarth

_“Hello, Argus.”_ The voice whispered in his ear. The Nord woke up slowly. The woman was by his bed, crouched down, as if waiting to strike. She probably was.

“What do you need?” He asked her. She simply smiled.

 _“I hear Vlindrel Hall is a lovely property.”_ She said. He nodded. _“I also hear you’ve been assigned there. To guard a new Thane.”_

“That I have. You going to kill her?”

 _“No. That would be counterproductive to my current plans.”_ She stood slowly. Argus couldn’t help but admire the sheer power that emanated from her, with every fluid, careful movement and calculating step.

“Would you share your current plans?”

_“You’ll see.”_

 

Argus stepped into the warm hall, and sat down to wait for the Thane that had taken up residence. Soon enough, the door opened and closed. He didn’t hear any footsteps, but he looked up to see the woman staring down at him. She was smirking.

“You were messing with my brain last night, weren’t you.” Argus didn’t phrase it as a question, and Laria didn’t take it as one. She simply nodded and slowly walked towards the empty bookshelves.

Delicately she placed book after book on the wooden planks, pulling them reverently from her bag.

“Can you even read those?” Argus asked. Laria paused, frowning at him, but then continued to place books.

She then moved into the alchemy room, moving things around in there, and Argus began quietly contemplating what possible motives the Dunmer could have for moving to Markarth.

 

Argus heard the door slam about midnight. He had been reading one of her books, a long, slightly confusing tome on Aedra and Daedra, when the tall Dunmer strode in. She looked pleased. Argus didn’t say anything.

 

When Laria left at dusk the following night, with a bulging satchel at her hip and only her Daedric daggers as her weapons, Argus looked confused. She didn’t tell him anything, and simply vanished.

 

The truth was she had spotted Muiri out near the smelter the day before, and had approached her. They had decided to meet at the inn the following night.

 

Once more, the silent woman walked into the Silver-Blood Inn, slowly walking up a flight of stairs to a private room. Muiri was there, with a platter already set there.

“I didn’t think you would come. I assumed you would change your mind and do something else.” She said shyly. Laria frowned.

 _“I wouldn’t break my word to you.”_ She said softly, sitting down. Muiri nodded, looking down at her hands.

“I can’t thank you enough. It’s like a great weight has been lifted from my shoulders. I was in so much pain, I—” Laria leaned forward, swiftly taking the young Breton’s hands in her own.

“But now, when I remember the past year, all that comes up, is you entering this room, and accepting my contract.” For the first time in Muiri’s memory, the woman smiled. She glanced down at the Dunmer’s chest.

“You have an amulet of Talos.” Muiri stated. Laria nodded. “Aren’t you worried the Thalmor will arrest you?”

 _“They already tried.”_ Laria murmured. _“Their leader finds it easier to simply ignore my presence.”_ She laughed then, a rough chuckle that had obviously been unused for a long time. She stopped, her mouth sealing in a thin-lipped frown. Muiri smiled at her.

“You’re more of a fighter than a speaker.” Muiri said softly.

 _“I’m willing to learn how to speak.”_ Laria whispered in Muiri’s ear. The young Breton lightly kissed Laria’s cheek along the burn scars. The Dunmer froze, staring straight over Muiri’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, I—” Laria turned to her slowly.

 _“I haven’t had someone do that for years…”_ She muttered, and then gently turned Muiri’s face to her own. _“I like it.”_ Muiri grinned, wrapping her arms around Laria’s shoulders. The taller woman pulled the Breton into her arms, letting Muiri settle against her chest. _“If I requested a room for the night, would you stay?”_ Muiri glanced up at the elf.

“Yes, yes I would.”

 

Laria normally took up an entire bed, preferring to sprawl across the sheets, but she took up only half the bed now, the other half belonging to a small Breton woman. They were wrapped up in each other’s arms, making sleepy conversation.

 _“If I traded Talos for Mara, would you join me in the temple?”_ Muiri looked up at the dark elf, who was staring at the wall.

“Yes, yes I would.” Muiri said.

 _“Even if I was an assassin?”_ Muiri nodded.

“It didn’t stop me from joining you earlier.”

_“Even if I’ve lost most of my senses?”_

“I’ll help you with what you need.”

_“You would give up your place as an alchemist, to live with an assassin.”_

“I’ve done worse. You know I’ve done worse.”

 _“You will join me?”_ Laria muttered.

“If you want me to.”

 _“I have properties. In five holds. What you wish, I will carry out.”_ Muiri brought Laria’s face towards her own.

“How long?” She asked.

 _“Three days. One to ride to Riften, one to ride back, and one to bring you to the temple.”_ Laria whispered.

“I will pack my satchel. Three days, yes?”

 _“The three days begin when we leave the inn. I will not fail you.”_ Muiri moved closer to Laria, closing her eyes and falling asleep.

 


End file.
